


The Spanish Inquisition

by Python07



Series: More Than Meets the Eye [5]
Category: Jack of All Trades (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Monty Python reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:47:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4990828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition with his meal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spanish Inquisition

Jack didn’t move from his sprawl in the chair. He looked Etienne up and down. The kid had to be at least 6’5”. He was lean, but still a bit gangly, like he hadn’t grown into his frame yet. He had a baby face and hazel eyes. There was an earnestness about him that put Jack on guard. “What beanstalk did you climb down from?” Jack drawled.

Etienne ignored Jack. He grinned but remained at attention. “I’m pleased you remember me, Gouverneur.”

Croque chuckled. “How could I forget?” He held a hand out waist height. “But the last time I saw you, you were only up to here.”

“A boy does a lot of growing in ten years.”

Croque came around to the front of the desk, also completely ignoring Jack. He clasped Etienne by the shoulders. “You’ve grown into a fine young man.” There was a wry twist of his lips. His voice was warm. “Vous avez le regard de lui.” 

Etienne bowed his head and flushed at the praise. “Merci.”

Jack fidgeted. He suddenly had the feeling of being an intruder. He frowned. It had never bothered him before to crash someone else’s party.

Croque didn’t turn his attention from Etienne. “Brogard, Monsieur Stiles was just leaving. Make sure he doesn’t get lost.”

Brogard kicked Jack’s chair. “You heard the gouverneur.”

Jack got up. “Okay. Okay. I know when I’m not wanted.”

Brogard bared his teeth. “I’ll walk you out.”

“There’s no need,” Jack replied blithely but Brogard was a step behind him through the mansion and across the courtyard to the main gate. He glanced over his shoulder to find Brogard still glowering at him. “That’s what I’ve come to expect of this place: service with a smile.”

Brogard snorted and turned on his heel. “Good day, Monsieur Stiles.” 

Jack thought about trying to get back in, but his sore lip reminded him that maybe he should give Croque some time to cool off. He looked up at the sunny sky. “At least it’s a nice day for wandering.” 

He wandered through the market, stopping to chat with all the merchants. Then he went down to the docks to chew the fat with some old deckhands he knew there. He avoided the bar (specifically Giselle and Monique).

He found himself sitting on the beach at sunset, watching the water and trying not to think. He kept hearing Croque’s voice and remembering the look on the man’s face made something twist in his gut. I will not take a man to bed who despises, pities me, or both.

Emelia clicked her tongue between her teeth. “I’ve finally found the prodigal son.”

Jack waved her away. “Ha. Ha,” he replied sourly. “I only wish I had an inheritance to blow on parties, booze, and girls.”

Emelia stood just behind him. “That boy learned his lesson. I wonder if you ever will.”

Jack pointed down the beach. “I’m not in the mood, so you can keep on walkin’, Sister.”

“Do stop being so childish,” Emelia said with a long suffering sigh and whacked him in the side of the head with a folded blanket. “Here.”

Jack grumbled but took it. He stood up to spread it over the sand. He bowed. “Here we are, your Highness,” he drawled and plopped back down.

Emelia sank down gracefully next to him. She set a basket down to the side. She arranged her skirt around her. “You ran out yesterday like your hair was on fire and then today you got tossed from the governor’s mansion.”

Jack winced. “You heard about that, huh?”

“The whole town knows. What’s going on with you?”

Jack’s gaze didn’t waver from the view. “Nothing.”

Emelia slipped a hand through his arm and leaned against him companionably. “You can tell me.”

Jack set his jaw. “It’s personal.”

Emelia rested her chin on his shoulder. “Jack,” she said earnestly. “I don’t want whatever it is to distract you during our next mission. That’s the way agents get hurt.”

Jack pushed away from her. “I’m not gonna let you down.” He got ready to stand. “I’ll be good to go, I promise you.”

Emelia grabbed him again before he could move. “Stop,” she said softly, but firmly. “I also want you to tell me because I’m your friend.” She smirked, just a little. “I thought you knew that, you Neanderthal ape.”

Jack settled back down. He took her hand and kissed her palm. “Please, don’t push me on this, Em.”

Emelia playfully slapped his cheek. “I told you not to call me that.”

Jack grinned impishly. “Would you prefer Foo Foo?”

Emelia slapped his cheek, harder. “Only Father gets to call me that.”

Jack rubbed his cheek. “Noted.”

Emelia nodded briskly. “Good.”

“I think you knocked a filling loose.”

Emelia rolled her eyes. “Stop being a baby.” She adjusted her skirts again. “I applaud your attempt to change the subject.”

Jack pointed to his own mouth. “Watch my lips move. I want you to get the message loud and clear.” He enunciated the words slowly and crisply. “I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It.”

Emelia’s face crumpled. She bowed her head and her shoulders slumped. “I see.”

Jack put an arm around her. “Now, don’t be like that,” he said, much softer.

Emelia reached for the basket. “I guess you don’t want the dinner I’ve brought out here either.”

“Food!” Jack snatched it from her. “I haven’t eaten since this morning. What’s in here?”

“Oh, just chicken, potatoes, and a bottle of wine.” Emelia snapped the lid down on his fingers. “The food is for agents who don’t keep secrets from their partners.”

Jack clasped his hands together. “Emelia, I’m begging you. Please.” He got on his knees before her. He clasped his hands as if in prayer. “I’m not ready to talk about it and I’m starving.”

Emelia held the basket away for a long moment before she smiled and gave it to him. “All right, but I warn you that I will get it out of you eventually.”

Jack started rummaging in the basket. He pulled out two glasses and the bottle of wine first. “I never expected the Spanish Inquisition with my meal.”

Emelia held the glasses while he poured. She shook her head in mock disapproval with him. “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.” 

Jack looked at her suspiciously. “The next thing you’ll be telling me is that your chief weapon is surprise, fear and surprise.”

Emelia smiled sweetly and it was almost frightening. “Fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency.”

Jack held his hands up in surrender. “That’s the end of this skit, Sister.”

**Author's Note:**

> French translations (courtesy of Bing translator)  
> Vous avez le regard de lui.-- You have the look of him.


End file.
